


of pastries and peril

by jammiedaleks



Series: when tomorrow changes into history [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 07:19:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1460656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jammiedaleks/pseuds/jammiedaleks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the waitress had left, River leaned forward, tense with irritation. “I could have caught up with that man and gotten her flour back. Why did you stop me?”</p><p>The Doctor picked up a salt shaker and swirled it gently. “There’s something off about this café. Three somethings off, to be precise. Need you here to bounce ideas off of.”</p><p>“You don’t need me for that!” she exclaimed, frustrated. “I’ve seen you hold conversations with flowerpots!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	of pastries and peril

**Author's Note:**

> Deleted scene from 'On a ladder from there to here, I climb', chapter one. I really love some of the dialogue that played out in it, but sadly it interrupted the story flow too much.  
> This is where River and the Doctor end up after setting the TARDIS to random in the search for a proper, non-burnt brioche.

The pale and tired sun had begun to retreat from its throne in the sky, disappearing slowly behind the mountains. Anticipation of the impending darkness had ushered the forests of the versant into a serene quietness.

This was quite rudely interrupted by noises of unearthly grinding and wheezing. Startled birds took to the air, instincts to flee overriding any curiosity they may have held about the blue box materializing in a forest clearing below them. The door opened, and a tweed clad figure bounded out. The Doctor breathed in the pine scented air enthusiastically.

“Earth, and by the smell of it, early 1990s,” said the Doctor. He gazed up at the mountain peaks. “Where have you taken us this time, old girl? A ski town in the middle of summer? ”

“Maybe she’s bored of hanging around Britain all the time,” River suggested.

The Doctor wheeled around to stare indignantly at the TARDIS, who was maintaining a smug silence. “Yes, well, I can’t help it if the majority of all alien activity tends to happen in one particular country, can I?”

River chuckled, and walked over to the edge of the clearing. Below them was a town nestled snugly into the foot of the mountain, its lights glowing softly against the darkening sky. “You know, based on the architecture, we’re more likely to be offered trdelnik than brioche here.”

“As long as they serve good tea to dip it in, I’ll forgive the lack of brioche,” the Doctor said brightly, rubbing his hands together. River pulled a face in distaste.

“Trdelnik, dunked in tea? That’s the strangest food combination you’ve ever come up with.” She paused, thinking. “Actually, I take that back.”

“Ha! Strangest combination of food, eh? That sounded like a challenge, Doctor Song.”

“It really wasn’t,” she said drily, and started off down the slope. The Doctor followed in her wake at a considerably more cautious pace, and silence fell as they concentrated on the descent. It didn’t last long.

“Chicken nuggets dipped in carrot soup.”

A smile crept onto River’s face. She pinged a branch at him, which he just about manages to avoid.

“Is that the best you can do? That just sounds like leftovers night.”

“Mushy peas on digestives.”

“Not bad. Think that was a favourite hangover cure on the planet Santiny.”

He trailed slightly behind her, continuing to rattle off his food experiments all the way to the base of the mountain and onto the main road of the town. River switched tactics to feigning deafness, in the hopes that he would eventually wear himself out.

He had managed to name almost every type of root vegetable before she caved.

“Hummus dip and Twinkies.” (She never could resist a competition.)

His face crinkled in disgust, but he was determined not to be outdone. “Marmalade and caviar.”

“Bananas and toothpaste.”

“Creme Egg bolognese.”

“Sweet chilli sauce on your -”

He bounded to her side, cutting her off hastily. “Let’s leave it at bananas and toothpaste, shall we?”

An impudent look stole over her face. River opened her mouth to finish the sentence and he clapped his hand over it. “River! There might be children within earshot!”

“It was an odd combination though.” But the Doctor had stopped listening, as he was loudly trying to drown out her words with a change of topic.

“Has anyone ever told you the history of cafés, River? Fascinating subject really, add some tea to a spot of chess in 15th century Istanbul, and hey presto! A staple business to human capitalism is born. Me and Charles II had a bit of a falling out over the whole thing, but I set things straight, I said ‘Look here Charley boy, the people of London will get their caffeine fix, even if they have to throw you off the throne to get it!’”

Still babbling, he hastened over to the café door and gallantly held it open for her. But as they tried to enter, a man carrying a large sack pushed brusquely past them.

“Do you mind?” River said testily, turning to confront him. The man ignored her and hurried away.

A waitress bustled towards them. “You’ll have to excuse him,” she said, ushering them inside. “We just had a delivery of flour, and he’ll want to be starting on the baking right away.”

“But wasn’t that your flour? For your restaurant?” River asked, confused. The waitress paused, and a glazed look stole over her face momentarily. Then with a twitch, her face cleared and she smiled brightly.

“Yes. But he’s taken the bag now. I’m sure I’ll grab a loaf tomorrow. Best baker in town, our Radek is.”

“You could go after him, demand your flour back.”

“No no, its fine, I’m sure he needs it more than I do. Besides, if I leave now, people’ll start helping themselves to the stock while I’m out. Can’t have all of it go, now can I.” She picked up menus from a messy pile on the counter. “Table for two then?”

The Doctor regarded her curiously. “You’re taking this awfully well, for a person that’s just been robbed.”

“If it were me, I’d have shot him first and chatted about rationalizations after,” River commented. The Doctor scowled at her disapprovingly. “Oh, don’t give me that look; it’d be with a stun gun. I am capable of reasonable and boring responses, you know. Occasionally.”

“Well, what’s done is done,” the waitress chirped. She handed them their menus with another cheery smile, and turned away to lead them to a table. River edged back towards the door, eager to go after the thief. She glanced at the Doctor, who gave her the smallest shake of his head and followed the waitress. River looked out the window, catching a glimpse of the man entering a house across the street. Reluctantly she turned to join the Doctor.

“Your finest tea,” the Doctor declared. “That is, if someone hasn’t gone and nicked that too.”

“I shouldn’t think so,” laughed the waitress. “Tea is not in high demand in this town.” She looked at River expectantly.

“Just water for me, thanks,” River said, sliding into the chair opposite the Doctor. When the waitress had left, River leaned forward, tense with irritation. “I could have caught up with that man and gotten her flour back. Why did you stop me?”

The Doctor picked up a salt shaker and swirled it gently. “There’s something off about this café. Three somethings off, to be precise. Need you here to bounce ideas off of.”

“You don’t need me for that!” she exclaimed, frustrated. “I’ve seen you hold conversations with flowerpots!”

At the sound of her raised voice, the man sitting at an adjacent table turned to face them. Kindly eyes peered at River from under thick brows grey with age. “If I may be of assistance?”

“Sorry?” River asked, slightly thrown. The stranger rose creakily and, rather audaciously, dragged his chair over to join them.

“You know, our town has a special method of anger management,” he said conversationally, lowering himself back into his seat. “And word is that they don’t even have it in the city yet!”

“Thank you for the offer, Mr –”

“Please, call me Anton, yes?” he interjected warmly. “I am not one for all the formalities.”

“Anton. Thank you for the offer, but I’m in no need of anger management therapy,” River said coolly. She turned to the Doctor. “So impress me with your powers of observation. What have you noticed?”

“Well, for starters, not a single person in the café batted an eyelid when that man walked out with his kitchen loot. Then there’s the rather gruesome horde of flies around the pastry stand, yet almost every table’s got someone munching away happily on a slice of cake.” He set down the salt shaker with a decisive clack, looking pleased with himself.

“And the third something?”

The Doctor nodded towards the salt shaker. River looked at him blankly.

“The salt.”

“What about the salt?”

“It’s actually in the pepper shaker.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Okay,” said the Doctor. “Salty pepper shaker might be a bit of a stretch. The first two still stand though.”

The waitress reappeared with drinks and a smile for Anton, who both the Doctor and River had forgotten about, and was still quite happily sitting at their table.

“Anton,” the Doctor said, leaning towards him, “not to be rude or anything, but you’re sort of eavesdropping on our conversation.”

“Yes,” Anton agreed cheerfully.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop.”

“Yes.”

“Would you mind not doing it?”

“Certainly.” He got up out of his chair and shuffled back to his table, only to pick up his plate and return to the pair. “Now where was I? Yes. Anger management bracelets!” He lifted up an arm to reveal a futuristic metal band tightly clasped around his wrist. Any thoughts of telling Anton in no uncertain terms to sod off disappeared from River’s mind as she studied the bracelet in fascination.

“Now isn’t that something!” the Doctor enthused, peering at it closely. “I’m the Doctor, that’s River, and where did this little beauty come from?”

“The newcomer of the town. Calls himself the Inventor. Keeps to himself most of the time, but a week ago he handed out these bracelets, saying they could give us lives free from fear and anger.” Anton rubbed the bracelet with the back of his sleeve fondly. “Angry Anton, my wife used to call me. Now, I am Affable Anton! Nothing bothers Affable Anton!”

“So if I told you that you are an incredibly nosy man who should learn not to invite himself to other people’s conversations?” River asked impertinently.

A small green light flashed on Anton’s bracelet, and the same glazed look and twitch they’d seen on the waitress flitted over Anton’s face. He smiled amiably.

“Then I would tell you that we are all entitled to our own opinions.”

River nodded, intrigued. She took a sip of her water and immediately spat it back out again. Anton and the Doctor stared at her in confusion.

“It’s _sparkling_ water,” she said, making a face at her glass.

Anton chortled. “What were you expecting?”

“Just normal water, not one with extra gas crammed into it!”

“Ah, yes, but in some European countries, sparkling water is considered the normal water. Still water has to be requested specifically,” said the Doctor. He eyed her glass hopefully. “I take it you don’t like the fizzy kind then?”

She rolled her eyes fondly and pushed her glass towards him. Delighted, he pulled out a well chewed straw from his pocket and dropped it into the water.

“So how exactly do these bracelets work?” asked River.

Leaning back on his chair, Anton shrugged. “It is too technical for me to understand. But then again, I cannot even figure out a cassette player. The tape, it always comes out, gets tangled, makes a mess. So, I am not exactly the best person to ask.”

The Doctor wrinkled his nose, having sucked up a full glass of fizzy water through a straw entirely too fast. Putting the straw back in his pocket, he pulled out his screwdriver to analyse the bracelet. “It’s wired directly into the neuroendocrine system. Any time the bracelet detects the start of an unwanted emotion it sends small electric signals that block it from developing further, and the person reverts to a state of happiness.”

“A stress free life,” said River admiringly. She then frowned, glancing at the display of fly infested pastries. “Side effects include doormat syndrome and a staggering level of apathy.”

“Yes, I think a visit to this Inventor chap is in order,” the Doctor mused. He rooted around in his pocket and pulled out some antique looking coins to put on his empty saucer. “Anton, fancy being our tour guide?”

Anton considered the question for a moment before gesturing to his half-finished snack. “Pay for my trdelnik and I will take you to his house.”

The Doctor grinned, placing another fistful of rusting coins on the platter. “Hard bargain, Affable Anton, but I’ll take it.”

Anton picked up one of the coins for closer inspection. “Are these korunas?”

“Haven’t a clue,” the Doctor said blithely.

Any further conversation was cut short as an almighty crashing sounded from outside. Sharing a quick glance, River and the Doctor simultaneously leapt from their chairs and raced towards the source of the sound, leaving Anton shuffling calmly in their wake.

Peering into the darkening night, River was the first to spot the disturbance. Silently she pointed to the Doctor a butcher’s shop further down the road, its window display smashed to pieces. As they approached, a wolf leaped out, holding a large cut of meat in its jaws. It turned to face them, eyes glowing with a furious intensity as it looked in their direction. The wolf let out a low snarl. River’s hand instinctively reached towards her belt for a weapon.

“River, don’t hurt it,” the Doctor warned. At the sound of his voice, the wolf growled louder, hackles raised. It dropped the meat and charged straight for them. Quick as lightning, River pulled out her whisk and fired a warning shot. The wolf’s demeanour instantly changed. Shying away from the noise with a yelp, it reeled around to flee towards the forest.

River turned to the Doctor.

“Did you see it?”

“Bracelet on its leg, yes I saw it too.” He stared pensively into the woods. “Though it’s affecting the wolf differently, ramping up its fear and aggression instead of erasing them. Makes sense, humans and wolves, apples and oranges, brain chemistry completely different.”

“We should go after it, get that thing off him as soon as we can.”

The Doctor shook his head.

“Best thing we can do for it is to go directly to the source of all this, the Inventor. Figure out how to stop him first.” But River was adamant.

“That wolf right now is being forced into a constant state of either fear or aggression, and who knows how long it’s been going on for. He must be terrified, not to mention exhausted and frustrated.” River pulled out her tablet. “You find the Inventor, and I’ll track down the wolf. He needs help and it can’t wait. Otherwise he’ll return to this town and this time end up hurting someone.”

“He could hurt _you_ ,” the Doctor said softly, worried eyes meeting hers. She smiled at him reassuringly.

“Trust me sweetie, I’ve handled far worse than one crazy wolf.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer, and then nodded reluctantly. He took his screwdriver out and pointed it whirring towards her tablet.

“That’ll let you track my screwdriver. Come find me as soon as you’re done please.” She stepped in close to the Doctor and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Thirty minutes is all I need,” she said confidently. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Once she was out of sight, the Doctor walked over to the butcher’s shop. Upon entering, his gaze was immediately caught by a small pool of blood. Treading carefully over shards of glass, he rounded the counter to discover the lifeless body of a butcher. The Doctor crouched down to give the body a cursory once over, noting the gleaming metal band on the man’s left arm. He sighed, running a hand over his face.

“No signs of defensive wounds. Probably wouldn’t have even shouted for help.” He looked up at Anton, who had followed him into the shop. “Still think those bracelets are a good idea?”

Anton’s face twitched, and he shrugged unconcernedly. “Death happens to all of us. Nothing worth getting upset about.”

The Doctor stood, and Anton was momentarily paralysed by the quiet and terrible anger of impossibly ancient eyes. Anton looked away, unable to hold his gaze until his bracelet flashed its green light.

He gave Anton a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s find ourselves an Inventor, shall we?”


End file.
